None So Fierce

“  i’ll  have  a   double  scotch  ,  neat  .  ”  cersei  shifted  in  her  seat  ,  swiftly  aware  of  the  role  she  was  meant  to  be  playing  .  she  was  the  worried  wife  ,  cersei  would  have  to  crush  the  excitement  of  becoming  a  widow  for  the  time  being  .  those  closest  to  the  syndicate  were  no  strangers  to  the  volatile  relationship  between  her  and  robert  ,  but  she  would  have  tongues  removed  if  any  stranger  dared  to  bring  it  up  to  her  .  but  now  sitting  next  to  tybolt  ,  it  took  everything  not  to  take  a triumphant  swing  of  her  drink  .  there  was  a  thrill  to  knowing  something  he  did  not  .  she  was  deep  in  her  cups  ,  but  even  she  knew  better  than  to  bring  up  the  topic  of  his  father  ,  no  matter  how  satisfying  it  would  be  .  “  you  seem  to  be  celebrating  ,  tybolt  ,  at  a time  when  my  husband  is  fighting  for  his  life  .  perhaps  reign  the  enthusiasm  in  .  if  a  stranger  were  to  come  upon  you  ,  they  might  just  assume  you’ve  already  grown  attached  to  robert’s seat  .  ”

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If he wasn’t so practised with maintaining a dangerously smooth demeanour no matter who he was speaking to, his expression might have wavered at her comment. For all he had grown used to taking criticism as a politician, that didn’t mean that he’d ever begun to like it. Especially not from her. But as ever his smile barely wavered as he answered. “Not at all. We both know that it’s thanks to him that I even have my career.” It was nothing of the sort, he had always been resourceful enough that he’d have been able to ensure he got what he wanted regardless of who he’d pinned himself to. Robert had simply been an easy choice but he had long since learned to adapt a modesty that he didn’t feel, especially if it made his success seem more down to luck than his meticulous planning. “But it does no harm to seem optimistic for the public, can’t have them worrying unnecessarily.”  

Although she’d never tell him, Dacey cherished the time she spent with Tybolt every couple of weeks.  Her life, stuffed to the brim things pertaining to Wolf Kings; either the business, the initiates, her friends within the syndicate, barely had room for much else.  But somehow Tybolt managed to sneak in there.  And talking to someone about something other than all of that was such a relief.  Naturally that meant they generally kept it light, but she didn’t mind, especially these days when things seemed so heavy.  

But, sometimes Dacey found herself biting her tongue, unsure if the words she wanted to say would break their unspoken promise of not talking about their lives inside their respective syndicates.  It really proved just how intertwined everything was, there was no separating one’s inner life from it.  “Sorry.” she said with a shrug, and a grin that told him she wasn’t sorry at all.  “I haven’t had a drink since the wedding.  Concussion protocol.”  the last words were said with a huff and a roll of her eyes, her frustration clear on the topic.  “But I’m more than happy to buy the first round for our interim governor.”  The words were accompanied by a smirk and raised brows as if she were impressed, but really just hoping he would speak more on the entire debacle.  “—I’m tired.  Work has been non-stop since, well, you know.” she finished by answering his question.

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Hand waved away her apology out of habit but a grin spread over his features when it dawned in him that she didn’t really mean it. He was a man who enjoyed being said yes to but victories did become quite hollow if someone didn’t put up a fight every once in a while. This little display of not bending over backwards for him was more than enough to amuse him. “Don’t be, serves me right.” Even if he had always avoided all talk of syndicates with Dacey, he never had managed to turn off the politician in himself. It was far to ingrained in him after year upon year of practise. So even though he can sense her words are almost testing him, he doesn’t bite. It was a tempting offer, the bait of being able to show off his newest achievement almost too good to resist but instead he just flashed a grin and gave an almost noncommittal answer. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to remember you if I am lucky enough to ever advance higher.”

Rare flicker of concern settled on his features as he circled back to the mention of her concussion. “But your head’s all fine now? No lasting issues from it?” Nod was given when it seemed obvious enough to him that people would flock to the gym in the wake of it all. Even he’d been tempted to brush up on his fighting skills. “Understandable. It took so many of us by surprise, can’t blame them for wanting to defend themselves.” Grin was back on his features once more, warm and genuine when he was proud of his friend’s talents. “Especially can’t blame them for wanting to learn from the best.” 

Despite what some would consider a traumatic experience, an ordeal that almost cost the Dayne her life, Aliya found herself busier than ever. Mornings and afternoons were spent in court while evenings provided little respite, trapping Aliya in her office until the early AM. Work provided a useful distraction, allowing for her to leave numerous concerns where she left them. Sure, she had plenty of questions to ask, especially when they centered on her well being and yet, Aliya did her best to keep her head down and in the books, where it was safest.

She’s currently seated at the bar, feet held up in an empty stool beside her (because high heels are murder on the soles) when he approaches. The face is familiar, she’s sure to have seen it plastered on newspapers or blaring on the tv (when she had time to pay attention to either). Tybolt. Tybolt something. Aliya fails in managing to remember his name but it’s been a long day, most of it spent filing paperwork. “For me? Whatever could you possibly offer?” Teases the brunette, patting the seat opposite of her while sliding tired feet back into her heels.

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Brow raised somewhat as she patted the seat, playing it off as a look of amusement with an ease that he’d always possessed. He’d hardly be a good politician if his features gave away every flicker of thought that passed through his mind. If he’d been a lesser man he might have turned his nose up at the notion of sitting where someone had just had their feet but he knew better than to make a fuss when it might have caused offence. Instead he simple gave a flash of his trademark grin, warm and bright, as he took the offered seat. After all, it was the company he was more interested in than the quality of wherever he sat. 

Suit jacket was straightened out of habit when he knew that someone was always watching and it was all too easy for that someone to have sway somewhere. He loathed the thought of anyone deciding not to vote for him when the time came and so he liked to ensure that he was flawless at every turn. “A simple bargain of a drink of your choice.” Words were smooth and sure as always, smile on his features once again as though it would make it a more appealing deal. “Granted not all as exciting as maybe I made it sound but it’s up to you for how much you capitalise on it.” 

location: the red keep open to: everyone

Despite being Robert’s son and an associate of the Stags to boot, Edric would not be inclined to call himself ‘Stag aligned’ (he was Renly and Stannis aligned, which naturally sometimes meant he served Stag interests, but Edric always liked to make the distinction), and had always been someone who would talk to others regardless of their own involvement with other families.  Stark, Baratheon, Lannister, Tully, Martell, etc. he really didn’t care, as long as they were fun to be with and could hold a conversation.  To an extent, he had never really paid much attention to territorial lines, and could be seen frequenting any number of family owned establishments.  But after his father’s attempted murder, despite his dislike for the man, Edric found himself a bit on edge, even in a neutral territory such as the Red Keep.  So when he felt a pair of eyes on him from across the bar, it took him a minute to realize it was someone he recognized, not someone wanting to kill him (well, he hoped, anyways, he didn’t think he had wronged them).  It was only as he offered a wave, did he suddenly realize his mind had gone blank on their name, despite obviously knowing it (could he blame it on the two drinks he had? he wasn’t sure).  They seemed to be heading his way and all he could whisper was “shit, shit, shit, shit.”

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Small talk had always come easily to him and especially so when he was exchanging pleasantires over a glass of scotch. Gaze had been flickering over the room before he spotted someone else familiar, his debate whether or not to head over solved when he was given a wave. “Edric, I thought that was you. It’s good to see you -I hope you’ve been keeping well?” The question was genuine enough but as always there was a self serving edge to it all. He knew that Lannisters were far from popular these days and he could only hope that not too much damage had been done. If luck was on his side ( a notion he hated when he always forged his own path in life )  Edric would associate him more with his father and his role as his lieutenant than he would with the Iron Bank. “Can I get you something while I’m here?” It was easy to slip back into old habits and he was grateful for the lack of a free bar this time to restore his favourite trick. Buying the drinks slightly tipped the scales in his favour, not to mention potentially loosening up tongues. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d glean from Robert’s son but he was ever the optimist that something useful would come his way.

let’s face it: anya didn’t particularly care for the lannisters or any of those who chose to tie themselves to them. but anya hadn’t been elected for her opinions, she’d been elected for her diplomacy, for her ability to do what needed to be done without complaints or regrets or second thoughts. for five years, she’d done that job flawlessly; no matter how little she’d wanted it the fact of the matter was she had it. for five years, she’d rubbed elbows and exchanged pleasantries and threats in equal parts with the upper echelons of their seedy little world, and unfortunately, she did have to admit tybolt had earned at least some tiny bit of her respect. “good to see you again, tybolt,” she greeted with a nod of her head. she’d caught him in what she figured was a rare moment alone, and really it would be rude of her not to say hello. a part of her wanted to lean back against the wall, but she’d spent far too many years in the military for anything other than soldier-straight posture. “i must admit, you look right at home here.”

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Over the years he had gotten to know some of the more influential member of other syndicates. Learning what he could about them should they come in useful for him or the Iron Bank at some point down the line. There were some that piqued his interest more than most and the woman that greeted him was one of them. He never quite had been able to work out Anya Waynwood but that only made him all the more determined to try. Bright grin burst over his features in greeting, smooth words following soon after. “Anya, always a pleasure.” His expression only grew the more dazzling at what he percieved to be a complement. After all, who wouldn’t want to look at ease in a roomful of people who could shift to be their enemies at a moment’s notice? But it’s nothing he says aloud and instead he simply chuckles, a warm and honeyed sound. “Well, it would be a poor show if I didn’t. A politician that wasn’t at home among the people? Sounds as though it’d be as disastrous as a doctor who couldn’t stand their patients.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

                   𝐀    𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄    𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄    𝐎𝐅    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃.    while    arthur    valued    promptness    —    years    in    the    military    having    drilled    the    if    you    aren’t    fifteen    minutes    early    then    you’re    late    state    of    mind    into    him    —    tybolt    was    taking    time    out    of    what    could    very    well    be    a    busy    schedule    for    this    meet    up.    the    dayne    wasn’t    going    to    begrudge    someone    for    being    just    barely    late.            ❝    no    need    for    that.    you’re    doing    me    a    favor    coming    out    here    already.    i    hope    you    didn’t    have    to    go    out    of    your    way    to    meet    with    me ?    i    know    my    invitation    was    a    bit    …    sudden.    ❞            after    that    envelope    had    shown    up    arthur    couldn’t    contact    the    crakehall    fast    enough.    oh,    how    he    wanted    to    tell    elia    the    contents    of    the    letter.    hand    the    blasted    thing    off    to    her    &    let    her    do    what    she    will    with    that    information.    but    he    felt    that    evidence    was    needed    first,    least    he    could    do    &    how    he    found    himself    having    a    drink    with    a    lannister    man.            ❝    i’m    not    one    to    beat    around    the    bush,    so    how    about    we    order    some    drinks,    skip    over    the    small    talk,    &    get    to    talking    business,    yeah ?    ❞

Easy smile settled onto his features as it was his turn to dismiss any talk of being put out and he then chose honesty as his tact for dealing with the other. “Not at all. Nothing a bit of schedule shuffling couldn’t accommodate. Besides, I must admit I was curious to find out what I could do for the Arthur Dayne.” It wouldn’t be the first time that he had been asked for some kind of political favour but he doubted that would be the case here. By all accounts the Dayne was a man of honour and most likely above some dealings. Still, he supposed that there would always be some room for a surprise. Grin spread over his features at the other man’s words knowing that he wouldn’t be kept in suspense much longer. There was a trickle of satisfaction too knowing that he had been right to chose to be forthright initially when the other didn’t strike him as the type to play games. “A man who doesn’t waste time, I can respect that. I’ll take a scotch.” It had long since been his drink of choice, something he could enjoy at his own leisure without having to worry about it clouding his thoughts too much. There was no doubt in his mind that he would need to keep his mind sharp for whatever this exchange held. 

🚿 - Do they like hot or cold showers?

Depends on the time of day really. In the morning or after a workout he prefers one on the cooler side of things. But after a long day always a hot one.

🎹 - Do they play any instruments?

He played the piano growing up simply because his father used to enjoy listening to him. It was a hobby he grew out of as other things caught his attention but he’s started playing again whenever he has the time ( so not all that often )  as it makes him feel closer to his father.

💤 - Do they like sleeping in or waking up early?

this night of unexpected events keeps making turns at every given moment. first a surprise wedding, then surprise guests, and now a surprise ambush. if olenna wasn’t as experienced as she is, she would be frightful out of her mind. but one gets used to sudden attempts at their life after a few times. she was not only a woman in power but a black woman in power that served in the senate. she wasn’t afraid of much anymore, least of all in her old age. 

she watched as tybolt barricaded them in, calm and collected.  ‘ thank you for keeping us safe, ’  she tells him, arms crossing,  ‘ although did you account for what would happen if they were to get in ? ’  she looks around the room, squinting with the low light of the other’s lighter,  ‘ perhaps we should utilize something as a weapon. ’  whether or not that was a possibility of happening was up in the air, but it was still important to get all of their bases covered. 

Nod of acknowledgement was given, old habits died hard even in the dark. “Of course.”  He made sure that the words were warm so that even though there was no way of seeing his features, there’s no mistaking his intentions. “We all have to help one another, don’t we?” While he did always want the Iron Bank to come out on top, he’d never been against each faction existing together and working alongside one another from time to time. It was a competitive world but he’d never been one to bay for blood or seek to be entirely independent. One was only as strong as their allies.

There were many things about her life that Barbara tried to keep away from the public eye, her position among the Tullys making her a valuable assets. But her romantic life was non-existent and the woman knew that none of it could be used as leverage against her. Not that she suspected Tybolt would do such a thing, it was mostly something born out of habit. “Can it be both? Romance, it all sounds very exhausting. Putting so much time and energy into a show that last only one evening is not for me.” Relationships in general took time to maintain and Barbara prefered to sleep around, take what she wanted and needed and leave. “I’m sure yours would be lovely,” she added with a wink. 

“Prettier than the bride.” As if that was a hard thing to acheive, considering that Lysa wasn’t know for her beauty or taste. “I’m sure there is more to come. We all know why most of us are here. Even if they are madly in love, this is more than a wedding, don’t you think?” The words were casual enough but it was true that none of them walked in here with something from their wedding registry in their hands. It wasn’t a normal wedding. “Have you set a date for yours?”

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Grin flashed across his features before he nods in agreement, already storing the information away even if it was nothing that really surprised him. “Both it is.” To an extent he could understand what she meant, after all he had never been much for relationships either and he couldn’t really claim to know all that much about love. But what he did know is that two people could build something impressive together and that was something worth pursuing. “It will be, I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” He was too much of a perfectionist to allow his wedding to be anything but flawless. It was only what he and his fiancee deserved, after all. “Well, every bride looks lovely on their wedding day but that doesn’t mean that some can’t give her a run for her money.”

Another nod, agreeing with her when it seemed obvious that this was hardly a regular affair. “There’s something to come but whether we’ll all be amazed by it or not I’m not sure yet. Perhaps just an ostentatious exit.” Head shook when he knew he’d let his other plans and goals take precedence over his nuptials. There was too much he wanted to achieve before he called himself a husband. “Not yet, we’re not in too much of a rush but once we do you’ll be one of the first to know.” 

He knew that he was lucky that she had said yes, after all, Cersei’s actions meant that it was hard to trust anyone with ties to the Lannisters now. “Arianne, thank you for meeting me.” Smile on his features was still warm but less bright than usual, almost as if he had dimmed its usual brilliance out of respect. “You have my deepest condolences for your cousin.”

between visiting her daughter, running her business, and laying awake at night with an envelope beside her bed, elia had not been getting enough sleep. she pulled more and more late nights, often wandering the streets or ending up at the diner, trying to avoid being alone and helpless in her own house. it was one such night that she found herself sitting alone at the always-open diner, a milkshake in front of her (she had all but stopped drinking alcohol after her letter came; she needed to keep a clear head). her laptop was open beside her, and she was so intent on her calculations that she didn’t notice someone had taken a nearby seat. elia shut her laptop, a polite mask of a smile on her face. “my apologies. i didn’t see you there. what brings you here, tonight?”

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The Diner had never been one of his favourite places when he tended to prefer a more upmarket establishment. Even when he’d been younger his father had only brought him and his brothers there a handful of times. Still, it did no harm to change things up every once in a while and increase his chances of running into someone interesting. As if to prove his point, he’d barely sat down when someone addressed him, warm smile on his lips as he spoke. “Nothing to apologise for, we can all get caught up in our own little world sometimes.” Of course, those were rare occurences for him when he had always made a point of paying attention to what was going on around him just in case he missed something.  “I thought I’d finally try one of their famous milkshakes - which one would you recommend?” “

While the man’s response didn’t entirely answer his question, it was good enough for now.  Anytime without Robert was time Edric would cherish.  Especially since he knew the man would most likely throw a fit and give himself a conniption over some of (well, two of) the current attendees.  In response to the man’s seemingly rhetorical question, Edric snatched two flutes from a passing tray that seemed to have been on route from the kitchen to the bar, so presumably clean.  “Well then, man with all the answers–” he seemed the type, a politician through and through “–What should we toast to?”

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Eyes lit up at the other’s choice of words, it did have a certain ring to it and his ego was always glad of anything that set him apart from the rest. “The man with all the answers, huh? I’m not sure it’s entirely true but I like it. Mind if I use it on my next campaign?” A campaign that he’d be running against the other’s father, not that he thought he’d mind all that much given the relationship between the two of them. He paused for a moment, considering his next words before an easy grin spread over his features once more and the toast came to him. “Why not health, happiness and success? For both the newlyweds and ourselves.”

👶 - As a kid, what were they like?